


The Joke's Over

by BiFrye (RafeAdler)



Category: Assassin's Creed
Genre: Aftermath, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen, M/M, Minor Character Death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-21
Updated: 2016-05-21
Packaged: 2018-06-09 19:50:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,167
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6920683
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RafeAdler/pseuds/BiFrye
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A brief aftermath of the fall of the Alhambra theater. Evie Frye worried about her brother, where he is, what's happening, and the results when he returns to the train.</p>
<p>Incredibly short but hopefully good? I'm very bad at summaries wow.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Joke's Over

**Author's Note:**

> This was something I imagined the other day and I really wanted to write it down so naturally I did. I hope you like it, I know there's not really much Rothfrye but it's implied. I'm gonna do more stuff for them because I'm a lame mess but this is the first thing I wanted to do.

It was almost daylight when Jacob Frye appeared in the train. Night had gone by, not a trace or a sound from Jacob during those dark hours. 

Evie Frye had looked at reports of where he could have gone. Their massive gang, the Rooks, had no information on his exact whereabouts. London was a sprawling city, even at night, and even if the brash assassin wasn’t very fond of stealth tricks, he could easily slip by untrained men if he wished. It was still strange. Evie had looked at the targets. None. She asked around at jobs. None. For once, the infamous Jacob Frye had no excuse to go out, nothing that would have been strong enough to peak his interests and sneak out without at least giving her a sign he was leaving for a while.

Unless…

Evie dug through the trash. There was something she remembered tossing in there, ready to be burned for fuel for the train. She only hoped that it hadn’t been incinerated yet. And it was a quick and easy find - the strange letter addressed to Jacob from the leader of the Blighters. She looked it over, eyebrows furrowed and biting her lower lip as she read.

It was still so confusing why he wanted to meet Jacob. Reading through it once more, she was unsurprised if Jacob had been visiting this man from the start. Normally he wasn’t good at keeping secrets from her, but she knew a secret like this he would pay extra attention to keep hidden. It made her stomach twist a little at the thoughts passing through her head.

Was Jacob becoming a Templar?

Why is he leaving me?

Does he not even care about our goals?

About my goals?

He said he would be there for me, why isn’t he?

If father knew…

She hated whenever she had to bring up father with Jacob. Every time she could see the pain in his eyes, the offense on his face and the tension all in his body. It broke her heart, and she felt pain every time. But how could she not use such a powerful influence to try to help her brother on the right path? If he had just listened, Jacob could have finally connected with father and-

The door to the carriage opened, turning Evie’s attention from the letter. She stuffed it quickly into her belt, which was large enough to conceal it. She wasn’t sure if she was expecting it to be Jacob, but she found her heart deflate when it was one of his gang recruits.

“Any reports on Jacob? Where is he?”

“We went to check different well known Templar locations,” the recruit replied. “When we got to the Alhambra, it had caught fire and burned down.”

Evie remembered the Alhambra theater mentioned in the letter. She felt anger boil in her chest. Jacob went to see the Blighter after all, and his answer was to burn down a building? She felt frustration in her temple, the way she clenched her fists, and she turned away. “Thank you, I’ll wait for him to return home. You can leave.”

Taking her seat by the desk, Evie opened up a book and took the time to read. She listened to the noise of the train like it was a lullaby, and felt relaxed and calm. The noise had originally kept her up at night, often sleepless and filled with groans and kicking the wall in annoyance. But eventually it became a relaxing tune, to the point where it was strange to sleep without it. Evie was thankful that it was at least calming her nerves as she awaited for Jacob to come home, and she had already begun to think of what she would say. It wasn’t because her brother was a bad person - he was just irresponsible and needed to hear the right words.

The sun was barely glimpsing out in the morning when Evie heard Jacob. He hopped on from the roof, and she turned and saw him climb down into the opposite carriage and collapse onto the sofa there. She closed her book and watched him a moment, head tilting. Something seemed different in his posture to her. His hat was dropped on the floor, and - wait, that’s odd. He loves hats. He always takes such good care of them, why is it on the floor? His hood is up, that different, he usually doesn’t like to do that.

His shoulders were slumped, his face down into the cushions, and there was something that looked exhausted about him. Evie stood and crossed into his carriage, standing expectantly. The moment she entered the carriage, she could smell soot and blood, and she knew her information was correct.

“What were you doing there?”

Jacob didn’t move, but made a little noise of protest. Evie felt her anger return quickly. “Jacob Frye, you’re being ridiculous!” she said. “I know you were at that theater, I know it burned down! What were you thinking, going there? That man was dangerous, you didn’t tell me where you were and I was worried! If something were to have happened I might have had no way to rescue you, and why did you burn that place down that's just-”

Her breath caught in her throat when Jacob sat up.

His face was covered in soot, a few spots of blood on his cheek. The soot below his eyes and down his cheeks were smeared, staining his skin and looking horribly filthy, greasy and wet.

He was crying.

All the words stopped in her mouth. The whole speech, every word from father carefully rehearsed. It was all gone. The look on his face, the way his eyes were gleaming with tears, the tremble of his lip. She hadn’t seen him cry like that in a long time. Maybe even never. This was not the careless, witty, and tough Jacob she knew and grew up with. This wasn’t the man who had grown up to loathe his father, feel bitterness at the world, and hide from his sister when he knew he was doing something wrong.

This was the boy who played games with her as a child, the little boy who was loud and giggly, and the boy who cried when he saw animals get hurt or when Evie hurt her knee on the training ground. This was the little boy who liked to climb trees and listen to birds sing, and got mad at a cat chasing a mouse. This was the little boy who would look at Evie and smile like he had all the sun and light in his eyes.

Evie Frye didn’t know what happened that night at the Alhambra. She wasn’t sure she wanted to know. That morning, she sat on the sofa with Jacob in her arms and let him cry against her shoulder. There were no words to pass. Just tears, love, and care.

Her speech could wait another day.


End file.
